


guilt

by jambon



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Drabble, Insanity, Longing, Plotless, kylo ren kind of hates himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:35:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22140022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jambon/pseuds/jambon
Summary: Kylo Ren can’t sleep, Rey talks to him through their bond.-not a lot of plot just an excuse for our favourite doomed couple to have a moment xo
Relationships: Ben Solo/Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	guilt

Why will she never understand what Kylo Ren is trying to do? He grits his teeth, knowing she can feel the pressure through the shared bond. He is always aware of her, always there, always watching with a kind of serenity that Ren himself envies. Yet Rey and he are very different people; two sides of a same coin at war with each other, the ancient battle of Skywalker and Palpatine dragged forward into the new age. The mud and blood and grit and _pain_ of it all, again and again until there is nothing left of the galaxy. That is not to say Kylo Ren doesn’t have a taste for violence, oh how he can revel in the destruction of a planet or a city or a soul, but there were times when he did question what it was all for if there was nothing left to rule over at the end of it all. Times, for example, like now. Deep into the night when he can barely remember the last time he slept and the ghosts he carries with him scream the loudest. Halfway between too hot and too cold, thick, dark hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, it gets harder for Ren to ignore the voices. Voices like Rey’s.

‘Trouble sleeping?’ Kylo bolts upright, switching the light on with a flick of a wrist to reveal Rey sitting on the end of his bed, mere feet away yet unarmed. ‘Me too.’ Her eyes rake over the hard muscles of his exposed chest, the scars that adorn his shoulders and face. A flicker of doubt, quickly quenched, passes over her face. ‘Do you,’ Ren’s voice is husky from days without speech, ‘Do you here them, Rey? The constant voices from either side of the force, trying to pull you this way and that way and not realising that in the process it’s tearing you apart?’ Shit. He’d said a lot more than he’d intended to, but Rey always has that affect on him. ‘Is this the guilt of murdering your father expressing itself, Ben?’ Restraining himself from lurching too far forward towards Rey, he grits his teeth and hisses. ‘I am not Ben Solo anymore Rey, I am Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, the most powerful man in all the galaxy, and-‘ His speech is cut off by Rey closing the gap between them and placing a finger over his mouth. ‘Hush now.’ Ren wonders if she can feel the stubble ghosting his upper lip, sense the waves of wracking emotion flowing off of him, mixed with something foreign. ‘Now Ben, the force pulling you towards the light is the strongest it’s ever been, I can see it in your eyes. You owe it to Leia and Han and Luke to turn now while you still can. And you owe it to me.’ Her impossible grip moves to Ren’s cheek, hand cupping his face as a thumb strokes over the thick, ropey scar there. ‘Please,’ she whisperes. Ren swallows, gaze flickering between her pleading eyes and her lips, well aware the same is happening on the other side of the coin. And for a brief moment, he sees life with Rey, in a distant planet far away from the First Order, from the Republic and the war. Life and happiness and peace on the light side of the force. The vision is gone as soon as it arrived.

In a flash, Kylo Ren’s icy grip is around Rey’s neck. She claws at his hands but it is no good. He just keeps squeezing. ‘You can tell Leia, and your little band of rebels and thieves, that Ben Solo is dead. Do you hear me Rey? Dead. And next on the list is you.’ With a final squeeze of her neck, Ren lets go and severes the connection. Disgusted with his weakness, his almost treason, he leaps up and grabs his lightsaber. In a blurred frenzy of red and smoke, Ren whirls and smashes and destroys everything in reach. He stands, shirtless, in the wreckage of his room. ‘Let that be a lesson to you, Kylo Ren,’ he mutters to himself. ‘You will not let that bitch get anywhere inside your head.’

And Rey, far far away on the other side of the coin, hears him, and almost believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> this is awful i know but it’s 3am and i’ve never written star wars before, give a gal a break.


End file.
